These pines, these fall oaks, these rocks,

这些松树，这些秋天的橡树，这些岩石，

This water dark and touched by wind—

这水域晦暗而又为风所触动－－

I am like you, you dark boat,

我象你一样，你黑色的小舟，

Drifting over water fed by cool springs.

漂过那被凉凉的泉水所喂养的水域。

Beneath the waters, since I was a boy,

大片的水下，自孩提时代起，

I have dreamt of strange and dark treasures,

我就梦见过奇异的黑色珍宝，

Not of gold or strange stones, but the true

梦见的不是黄金，或奇石，而是真正的

Gift, beneath the pale lakes of Minnesota.

馈赠，在明尼苏达苍白的湖下。

This morning also, drifting in the dawn wind,

这个早晨，也漂流于黎明的风中，

I sense my hands, and my shoes, and this ink—

我感觉到我的手，我的鞋，还有这墨水－－

Drifting, as all of the body drifts,

如躯体的所有部位那样，漂流于

Above the clouds of the flesh and the stone.

肉体和石头之云的上空。

A few friendships, a few dawns, a few glimpses of grass,

几次友谊，几个黎明，几次对草丛的瞥视，

A few oars weathered by the snow and the heat,

几把被雪和热气所侵蚀的桨，

So we drift toward shore, over cold waters,

于是我们从寒冷的水域上面漂向湖边，

No longer caring if we drift or go straight.

不再关心我们是漂流还是一直划去。